Lavanthia's Legacy
by Spellsmith
Summary: Just a small story of a brave young Wood Elf woman who washes up on the shore of Bleakrock unconscious, with no recollection of her past. What will she make of herself as she travels across Tamriel, making friends and foes alike along the way? (Rated M for later plot-related smut, the chapters containing it will be marked with an A/N and can be skipped.)
1. Chapter 1

Reyne Taale smiles at the cute young Elf woman who comes down the stairs after putting her older companion to bed for the evening. It is surprisingly early, at least for the smooth, handsome Dunmer. "Coming down to sit for a while before bed, stranger~?"

Lavanthia widens her eyes a bit and turns to the stranger's voice. Noticing his eyes on her, she takes a lock of hair and nervously strokes it for some comfort, still in her mage robes, "Y... Yes, I am."

Reyne chuckles, waving her over to the seat beside him, noticing the blush on her exotic, pale face. She is beautiful, but clearly shy and inexperienced. "Well, come sit with me and I'll share what I have. I promise I won't bite... too hard."

"U-Um... No biting, please? But I will sit..." she goes to sit next to the man, but maintains a respectable distance away from the stranger for privacy. She looks up to the Dunmer curiously.

Again he smiles down at her. His attractive features reveal up close that he is about her age, maybe a few years older, and an experiensed gleam in his dark eyes might make her shiver or blush. Reyne brushes the silver hair out of his face, his long fingers combing through the thick tresses. "That old man with you, how long have you two been travelling together?"

"U-Um... Not very long at all. We're refugees from a village that got burned down recently," she explains, forest green eyes catching the elegant move, but seems to remain oblivious. "We were the last ones to arrive."

"I can see that you care for him, even if you haven't known him for long. What's your name, beautiful?" Reyne looks at the young woman intently lifting a mug to his smooth lips to drink some hot tea. He motions to the kettle of tea in the middle of the table. "My name is Reyne Taale, a minor member of the Indoril family here in Stonefalls."

The wood elf eyes over the kettle and reaches her tiny gloved hands for it to pour herself a glass, "L-Lavanthia. Just... Lavanthia." While leaning over, he can clearly see the staff on her back which seems to be made in the Bosmeri style.

He places his hand on her nervous fingers, helping her keep her cup steady on the table, his other hand under the kettle to tip it over and help her pour. Leaning forward, she could smell the intoxicating scent of him, of sweat and rain, but also of flowers and sunshine that dries out wet clothing. He must have traveled long and hard to get to Davon's Watch, and here this important man was paying so much attention to a shy Bosmer. Why?

A gasp in startlement, but her hands are kept clasped around the kettle, mostly to take in the scents, then try to read his aura. The scents alone made her curious because it didn't smell like ash. Already buzzing with questions, she asks, "Do you live here in Davon's Watch?"

The Dunmer man chuckles softly, a sweet sound, lifting his hands from on top of hers as he finishes helping her, taking the tea pot from her gently and elegantly placing the lid back on top of it. His every motion is practiced and smooth, as if done meticulously a thousand times. "No, I am just staying here for a few days. I have to go to bed, but how about we go somewhere in the morning. I can pick you up after breakfast, give you a tour of the place?"

Lavanthia's ears noticeably slacken back as if the answer wasn't a yes. "I'm sorry, but I promised to stay with my companion," she looks up the steps. When he was that close to her, he could smell the various flowers, leaves, and nature like a natural scent on her person. As if she came from the flourishing lands of Summerset or Valenwood. And the aura... raw with abundance of Magicka but leaves a gentle footprint.

"Oh, I'm sure he will understand. Talk with your companion about it, I'll make plans." Reyne takes the woman's hand in his own, kissing it tenderly with his lips before pulling away, and she would notice the sudden and abrupt absence of his smell and his nearness. He rises gracefully from his seat there at one of the main hall's tables, turning to go up the stairs and to his own room, leaving the young woman there with just the memory of him and her own thoughts.

The sudden absence of his own scent seems to throw her off a bit, leaving her wide eyed and wondering as she watches him walk away. Awe and confusion written on her face. But she sips at the tea, tasting it carefully...


	2. Chapter 2

Fionghall Silversword barely stirs in his cot on the floor but to sneeze and roll over. He does not notice the soft, quiet movements of the man-curious young woman he had met just a few days ago, but more would certainly be revealed in the morning. Ah well, he only "needed" her to get this far... he continues to dream about his youth and decades-old adventures.

* * *

Lavanthia awakens the next morning, sitting up with a yawn and stretching her arms up over her shoulders. After a moment, she takes a good look around... Ah... the inn. The memories flood back. The village. The evacuation. The old man... Speaking of, she leans over to look down and see if he's still there.

Fionghall would be downstairs in the main hall, speaking with the Innkeeper about his own business. Before getting up and leaving the young woman, he had draped his blanket across her shoulders, wrapping her in the warmth of the rough Homespun cloth. His deep, old voice could probably be heard in the early morning, clear to her keen Mer ears.

Lavanthia takes the blanket and keeps it wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak, taking care to not let it drag across the floor as she steps out of the room. Ears perk up as she listens to the conversation below...

"I'll pay for the girl's lodging last night as well, Madame. I'm not sure how soon I'll be leaving myself, but I will enjoy the breakfast you've made before I do."

The little elf turns around to quickly place the blanket on the bed and descend down the steps to join up with Fio by his side! Just as timid as last night with her head lowered, red hair shielding her face from view, and staying close by the taller man.

Fionghall smiles kindly as the timid girl sits beside him, letting her grab some biscuits or sausages if she would like, as he drinks from his morning mug of ale.

She takes a sausage and starts eating it, looking up to Fio with a nervous question, "H...Have you decided on what's next, mister Fionghall?"

"Don't get juice on your chin dear." With a rag in hand, he dabs her face, drinking the rest of his alcohol with his other hand.

Lavanthia giggles when he dabbed her chin, "Thank you, Fio! I won't make a mess!" She pipes up before taking another bite, only this time being more careful with her food.

After eating, Fionghall sighs and gets up from his seat, feeling his way around the place with his heat senses and his hands. His chilly aura stretches out a bit as he places a hand on the girl's shoulder to pivot away and turn to go. Luckily, not many people were awake this early in the morning so he didn't bump into anyone on his way up the stairs.

Lavanthia gets back up and quickly takes his arm to help guide him back to their room. Yes, she might not have needed to, but every fiber in her being urged her to help him, so she's doing it.

The older man nods at her help as she keeps him from colliding with the stair rails, his hand keeping them safely at arm's length from him as well.

Lavanthia guides him to the bed, gently places his hand there, and stops. Eyes look up to him in concern, "Fio...?"

The old Nord looks down at her with a kind smile as she helps him up the stairs. He really needs a walking stick... "I appreciate the help, dear. But I'm not weak."

"No... you're not weak, but I felt like it's the right thing to help you." She explains, voice sounding smaller with shyness in full swing, but she knows he can hear her. Then proceeds to snuggle up to his side, gripping his shirt in both hands like a frightened child.

Fionghall sits heavily on the small bed, dwarfing it with his size as he digs through the rough cloth of his thick, warm tunic. Pulling out a bar of chocolate, he hands the candy to the girl. The old man seems to have surprisingly warmed up to her in the past few days since they left Bleakrock together, escaping the Daggerfall Covenant forces. "So, did you make any friends last night after I went to sleep?"

Lavanthia's face brightens up at the sight of candy and takes it, munching on it gratefully after giving a cheerful, "Thank you, Fio!" After a couple of bites and a swallow, she pauses to think, "Actually... there is this one guy, a Dunmer, whose name is Reyne Taale from House Indoril. Kind of... strange."

"Oh? Tell me more about him." The old Nord has heard tales about the Dunmer Houses for decades, especially the Indoril who rule over this part of Morrowind, and their treacherous politics.

"Well... he seems... gentlemanly enough, invited me to his table for tea and offered a tour. But he keeps on giving me strange looks and his scent... when he got close one point he smelled of nature rather than ash. At one point, his scent completely... vanished. Is that natural?"

"It's called perfume, dear. I suppose the Bosmer have no need for it, but sometimes people rub things on their skin that smell nice, like flowers or fruits." Fionghall chuckles softly, his strong chest bouncing up and down in time with his laughter and his shaking beard.

"Oh... is it normal for the smell to just go away like that? If so, that's kind of silly..." she giggles along with him, taking another bite of the chocolate, which naturally smeared some of it on her puffy cheeks.

"Well, you can only smell it if you're very close to a person. This Reyne must like you and wants to be close to you. I say you should find him..."

"Well... He did offer me a tour of Davon's Watch. Should I accept his offer..?" She shuffles in her spot, unsure of this.

"Go ahead, Lavanthia. I might not be here for very long anyways, so you should go have fun."

She pauses and looks up to him with concerned, saddened eyes, "Why? Where are you going?"

Fionghall scratches his beard, thinking for a moment before he replies. "I have no reason to stay here permanently. I suppose my goal is to get back to Skyrim, maybe find a home in Eastmarch to live."

"Could I come with you?" She asks with her green eyes shimmering with hope.

"We will see if I'm even here at the Inn when you get back. Now, go find that young man, because not many your age would find a Bosmer very attractive around here." Fionghall pats the girl on the top of her head, ruffling her thick scarlet red hair, before pushing her gently on the shoulder to go downstairs and find that Reyne fellow.

She nods up at Fio and goes to run down the stairs, but not before calling back, "See ya, Fio! Please don't leave so soon!" Then descends down to the lobby, pausing to look around, chocolate still covering her cheeks which add to the child look.


	3. Chapter 3

Reyne Taale sits downstairs, again waiting on the dashing young Bosmer woman upstairs. He knew that as soon as she had put her older companion to bed and made sure the old Nord was asleep, she would creep down the stairs to meet up with him. It wasn't that she did not trust the aging Warden, but rather that quietness was essential to their getting out of the Inn without waking him from his deep sleep. In either case, he brushes off the front of his tunic, a richly-woven Linen jack made by the tailor down the road in the market square. How long had they been dating? A few weeks now, going out almost every night? It also seemed that the old man was loathe to leave this place, even if he didn't admit it, at least until Lavanthia had finished her wild and curious affair with the charming Indoril lad here in town.

The little Bosmer descends down the steps on her tip toes and stands straight beside him, smiling up at him with her eyes shimmering green. The strange markings still remain a secret mainly between the two of them. His strangeness is... strange, but she finds him quite... magnitizing.

The alluring Elf looks down at the small woman, taking her gently by the hand before leading her out of the Inn and into the quiet night outside, to stroll along the streets for now. With his arm around her waist, he holds her close as he did that evening not too long ago, at their first date under the sweet, gentle downpour of the Vvardenfell rains in Seyda Neen.

Once there, Lavanthia cuddles up to his side, letting out a soft sigh of content with arms wrapped around his chest. And when she does, her markings appear again to show how very trusting she is to let go of this restraint. "How was your day, Reyne?"

With Lavanthia's head on his shoulder, he leads them on into the night, stopping by a few food stalls still open in the market area as they go along. Reyne playfully puts a sugar-covered pastry to her lips, a soft smile on his own face. "Well, I did some work and I was out most of the day, but I had time to come back and prepare for our nightly outing."

Lavanthia eyes the pastry curiously before taking a small bite of the sugary treat, humming as she tastes the sweetness, "You're a pretty busy guy... Speaking of, I was thinking about getting a job within Davon's Watch, or wherever Fio decides to go."

"That's a good idea. Though, I hope you two decide to stick around for a little while longer." The man bends down and leans in to kiss Lavanthia deeply on her lips, licking the sugar off her mouth. He smiles as he pulls away slightly after a moment. "Mmm you taste sweet."

Lavanthia blushes a bright red across her cheeks beneath the glowing white markings, kissing tenderly right back before parting, "You as well," she remarks, trying to catch her breath. How is it this one man has the capability of stealing her breath?

"Come, there are other things to do." Reyne chuckles at her embarrassment and her blushing smile. She was used to his kisses now, but she was still clearly a virgin to all of this. Poor girl... before long, they were at his favorite spot in the harbor, watching the thousands of stars come out one by one, the twin moons of Akatosh in the sky full in their bright, white light.

The girl takes his arm and follows him to the harbor, expression immediately brightening to the stars and moons in the sky. This has quickly become her favorite activity as well! Seeing the night sky with her boyfriend!

The tall Dunmer places the small woman on his lap, kissing her neck softly tonight under the light of the night sky, caressing her from behind, his strong, lithe arms wrapped around her slim body protectively. "Mmm, tonight is almost as beautiful as you, Lavanthia."

(A/N: LEMON BELOW, SKIP TO NEXT LINE TO AVOID IT.)

* * *

Lavanthia gasps softly as the lips descend upon her neck, making her blush all that much harder and tilt her head back so he may be granted access to all of it, "Th-Thank you, Reyne. Nothing beats seeing the wonders of night time with you."

Kissing her softly, his hands begin to undo her tunic, playing with the several buttons teasingly as he goes down her torso from her throat to her stomach. He nibbles on her neck tenderly all the while, the scent of his perfume strong in her nose with such proximity. Like ash and pine, but also fresh rain and Jute flowers.

As she's being kissed, the Bosmer is nigh helpless to the roaming hands. Eyes darkening as her vision and thoughts cloud to all but Reyne. Though she does seem slightly confused as to the different direction this was taking... The perfume didn't help, however...

As she melts so easily into his arms, Reyne pulls her closer to him, finally removing her top and baring her small, nubile breasts to the cool night air, a soft breeze blowing over them and her sensitive nipples. His hands come around to grope her chest, massaging the soft mounds there, fingers pinching the nipples gently as well. Every touch is skilled and tender, attentive and exciting in its gentle exploration of her body, showing her new, pleasurable things.

Lavanthia gasps and widens her eyes as she feels the alarm bells ring in her mind that something wasn't quite... quite-... All rational thought was lost to the sensations of the here and now, rolling her hips as she moans and arches into the eager hands exploring her body. Soft moans trail from her lips, signifying that he's seduced her now.

Easily with his strength and her small frame, Reyne turns the woman around, wrapping her soft legs around him. Already he can feel how warm and soaked her core is beneath her pants, and she would feel a very hard, thick member beneath her pressing into her bottom, formidable but warm and nice. Now Reyne kisses her softly and deeply on the lips, while removing his tunic as well, quickly tossing it to the side after a moment. She was new to this, so he planned to take it nice and slow, ease her into sex gently...

Quickly the Bosmer's lips were captured into a searing kiss that left her deepening for more, moaning as she grinds into his bulging member instinctively. She pauses as she parts from his lips to eye over his chest. She couldn't stop herself from leaning in to kiss along his pecs, almost worshiping his body.

Reyne hisses briefly in pleasure at the young woman's tentative yet eager and intimate kisses, groaning as his hands wander down the gentle curves of her body to play with the hem of her pants, carefully pulling them off of her before setting them to the side, and doing the same to his own, kicking them off easily and continuing to caress her. "Do you want to keep going, Lavanthia~?"

Lavanthia pants heatedly, squirming her hips which causes her hot, wet core to grind into his member, eliciting another moan from her. The kisses trail down to his abdomen, close to the beltline, "P-Pleeeaaase! Yes, please, Reyne!"

Reyne chuckles at her increasingly wanton need, pulling her up to prevent her mouth from going too far down. Maybe another time... smiling at the thought, he lifts her up gently, positioning his throbbing cock at the folds of her wet entrance, holding her steady before lowering her very gently onto him, inch by inch. Encountering her virgin barrier, he pushes through as tenderly as he can, kissing her quickly to distract her from any pain or discomfort.

Lavanthia moans louder and louder the deeper he goes, legs trembling as new sensations arc up along her spine and spread across her body, leaving her weak and utterly at his mercy. However, she is just as quick to kiss and ravage him with a renewed vigor!

As she arches backwards with new pleasures she couldn't have ever dreamed of, Reyne places his hands behind her back and catches her, holding her close as he finally sheathes himself inside her. Just his girth and length are enough to fill her up entirely, brushing against her sensitive clit slightly. "That was good for your first time... ready for me to start moving?"

Panting to help cool off her hot body a little, she moans and nods wordlessly, wiggling her hips a bit to test the intruding, throbbing and pulsating shaft inside her, "Ooooohhh yes! Reeeyyynnne!"

Moaning low and quietly as she wiggles on top of him and thrusts her hips down onto his, Reyne nods slightly and continues kissing her, before moving against her himself slowly, carefully. Teasing the stiffness out of her, he begins to build up a steady, comfortable rhythm, bouncing her up and down, her small breasts jiggling, nipples exposed again to the air. One of them in his mouth…

She bites into his neck to muffle her cries of intense pleasure as she feels something building in the pit of her stomach, increasing the sensations tenfold! Fingers digging into his back as if trying to hold on to him in this onslaught!

Pushing up into her a bit harder, he groans as he feels the woman's chest and breasts pressed against him, the snug tightness of her inner walls squeezing around him as she prepares to have her first orgasm, the tip of his cock repeatedly pounding against the entrance to her womb.

"A-Aaaaah!" she pries from his neck as she arches up, "Reyne! Ooooh Reyne! A-AH!" Oh she's definitely close! "I... I think I-OOOH!"

"Shh it's okay, let it come. You'll feel so good if you release it, just let it all out." Reyne rolls his hips into hers, moaning softly, as he kisses her neck and relishes in the sound of her gasps of pleasure.

A cry of ecstasy comes unrestrained as the rush of juices flows from her folds to coat his mass! Eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, feeling the climax grip around him tightly!

Reyne gladly lets her cries of bliss fill the still, empty night air as that cool breeze wafts over them, her mewling moans and groans letting the world know that this rogue had claimed her virginity and given her something no man ever could again: a beautiful first time. After a moment, her squeezing forces him over the edge as well, and she would feel his seed flooding her womb quickly, filling her to the brim almost instantly. Luckily he had drunk that infertility tonic this morning...

The poor little Bosmer falls into his chest once he's emptied of every last drop, panting heavily from the intense first ever climax. After recovering her breath, she smiles up at him, relishing in the afterglow.

* * *

Reyne smiles down at the small girl as well, kissing her sweetly few times as if in congratulations for her good work and her eager effort. For a while, they lay their together naked, and as the moon began to crawl across the sky, the Dunmer helped Lavanathia get dressed again and carried her back through the streets of Davon's Watch to the Inn.

Lavanthia snuggles into his chest as she's being carried back to the Inn, nearly falling asleep right in his arms with how exhausted she is. Would Fio awake to this?

_"Hopefully not," _thought the Nightblade as he carries to woman upstairs to her room there at the Inn. Placing her gently down onto her bed and tucking her in, he turns to go, but not before looking back at her sleepy form from over his shoulder. It was a pity that he would have to leave soon.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Lavanthia would wake to a small, neatly-written letter for her beside her head, laid nicely on one of her small pillows. Down on the floor, her older companion still rests before the sun begins its rise over the horizon and banishes the two moons from the sky. The penmanship is excellent, the signature at the bottom signed with a beautiful red ink that almost glistens in the light of the young woman's bedside candle. On the letter, it reads:

_"My dearest Lavanthia,_

_ I am writing this to tell you that my work here in Stonefalls in complete, specifically in Davon's Watch. I will be moving on to continue my odd jobs in other parts of Tamriel, and while my vocation may take me far from you physically, this past week we have spent in each other's arms will remain in my memory forever. I regret a great many things, but most of I regret not having told you more about myself when we were together. I love you, Lavanthia, and I hope desperately and pray to the Tribunal that our paths may cross again. _

_Forever yours, Reyne Taale"_

Lavanthia widens her eyes and let's the letter fall on her lap, shoulders slumped and eyes tearing up...

Fionghall stirs on the floor, the old man's shoulder pains acting up as his body is roused from sleep by the young woman's quiet sobs and crying. Slowly and carefully, he rises to his feet before walking the short distance to her bed, sitting down beside her. The bed creaks and strains with the effort of holding up his immense weight, and the old Nord puts a large, sympathetic hand on Lavanthia's small shoulder. "So, I assume the young man has left, then? I did not think he would be in town for much longer..."

Lavanthia turns and buries herself into his side, careful of his shoulder, nodding with a whimper. Oh how her aura, that usually sang with happiness and embraced every living being with the gentle presence, is now filled with a sadness and longing. But also there was hope. Hope she could be reunited one day...

Fionghall shakes his head, something in the back of his mind telling him he should have expected this. No matter what the young man's true feelings were, he had sparked a fire in Lavanthia and ignited something in her that clearly would not simmer down for a long time. He could only hope that she learns how to control her emotions and pick the right man next time. He tries to console her, but with little enthusiasm. "Life is like this sometimes, dear. Maybe you will meet him again soon."

Lavanthia buries her face into his tunic, nodding slowly. The poor little Bosmer... But he's right. She might find him one day... And perhaps learn what he was hiding from her all this time. A small hiccup, and she cuddles in closer into Fio's side.

Fionghall sighs softly and hesitantly strokes the young woman's head, brushing his fingers protectively through her thick locks of scarlet red hair. Somehow in just the past couple weeks he had grown to care for her and despite his disgruntled attitude otherwise, she knew he could not deny her if she wanted to come with him to Eastmarch. The trip would be long and difficult, but perhaps along the way she might meet another, better man with whom she could spend her free time. Thoughts of his daughters' previous lovers float through his mind, and how those relationships were necessary for the two girls to grow in their own ways.

Lavanthia's sobs quiet into soft cooing, just resting now after the overflow of emotions. Eyes now closed, her breathing more even. But she doesn't release her grip on his tunic, as though afraid he might disappear. It's clear she wants to be right by his side... for who else could she go to? Where would she go?

"Shhh, shhh. It will be alright, my dear. Tell you what: we will stay right here for the rest of the day and rest up, and in the morning, we leave with a caravan to Eastmarch. I will not stop you from coming with me if you choose." He sighs heavily, smiling faintly at the small woman who had sobbed into his tunic and emptied herself of all her sadness. Her first heartbreak...

She nods again, looking up with her face stained in tears, "I will go with you, Fio. What all will we need for the trip?" Another sniffle.

Fionghall thinks for a moment, realizing that this would be a good opportunity to temporarily distract the girl from her heart ache. "Well, firstly we will need food supplies. Caravans are good about providing safety in numbers but aside from stopping at safe spots for water, everyone will be responsible for carrying their own food stuffs. Seeing as how we will be moving into colder territories very quickly on the journey, we may need warmer clothing as well."

Lavanthia reaches back to pull out her coin purse and see how much she has. In these past few days, she's been doing odd jobs here and there to come up with some coin. "How many days would this trip take?"

"Hmmm, I'm not sure. Hopefully no more than a week, honestly. You have been busy, but the past couple days my stomach has not been agreeing with me." Fionghall winces in a small amount of pain, holding his hand to his stomach as the pain rolls through him, and he fights off the urge to vomit. "But if the trip is not too long, I can... manage."

Lavanthia leans over to grab a clean bucket and hold it up to him, "What's wrong? Why is your stomach not agreeing with you?" Then takes off one of her gloves to put a hand on his forehead, feeling for a temperature.

Fionghall groans softly and winces again, nodding as he takes the bucket from the young woman just in case. He waves a hand to his satchel, full of medicinal herbs and little pouches of cures. For an old man like him, it was essential that he know how to make his own medicine, and he beckons Lavanthia to give him his herb bag.

Lavanthia gets up to pick up the herb bag, handing it over to him. Eyes are filled with sympathy for her companion as she wished she had the ability to cure whatever ails him... As this thought crossed her mind, her markings make their appearance. This would be the first time Fio has seen them...

"Thank you... Hmm, something is different about you just now. My Magicka enables me to see auras of living things but nothing else, and your energy just pulsed."

"Oh?" She looks down at her hand and widens her eyes, shutting them as she struggles to get her energy levels back down...

Fionghall raises his eyebrow curiously at her as she quickly takes measures to quell whatever energy signature she had been giving off, and he goes back to rooting around in his bag of herbs. Just judging by texture and smell alone, he was able to pick out a few packets of dries leaves, removing them from their rough paper packaging. Taking a small pipe out of one pocket in the satchel, he drops a pinch of the herbs in his pipe, striking a coarse match on the stone floor beneath him to light the pipe. Within a few minutes, the rumbling in his stomach begins to calm significantly, and he groans heavily. Nirnroot... he would have to be careful not to take too much of the stuff. "I... ugh, I think I just ate something that disagreed with my stomach. I will be fine, my dear."

Lavanthia sighs as she finally manages to calm her Magicka, smiling in relief at Fio when she notices his own relaxation, "Okie! But let me know when it acts up again? Please?"

Fionghall grunts and nods at her earnest warning. He knew how to take care of himself, but it warmed his old, cold heart to know she cared as well. After finishing his smoke, he puts the pipe bag in the satchel and ties it all up again.

"Maybe I should learn more about healing...?"

The old Nord smiles up at the girl, patting her hand with his. "Mmm, I could teach you the basics of Alchemy along the way, and one technique I use in a pinch. It costs a lot of Magicka so you have to be careful, but it's helpful in emergencies. And it's always good to know how to mix brews and potions..."

Her face brightens the moment he suggests this and nods frantically, "I would love to learn them! If it means helping you and others!"

The excitement and eagerness to help... makes her aura start pulsating again. Seems her magicka is recovering nicely!

Fionghall squeezes the young woman's hand, before rising from the bed to grab a pencil and his notebook, writing a short list of the things they would need with them: Nirnroot, thick coats, extra shoes, and a small list of food stuffs. Fionghall also jots down the rough measurements for his clothes before he hands the list to Lavanthia.

Lavanthia takes the list, looks over the items, then comes in for a big hug before parting, "I won't be long, Fio! Rest easy!" Then she starts hopping down the stairs, taking the letter with her!

The old Nord smiles as the girl goes, laying back on the bed to get some more rest. The pit in his stomach is still there, though the smoke earlier had settled his nerves considerably and calmed his sickness. If really must have been something he had eaten. He closes his eyes, and decides to wait for Lavanthia to come back.

Lavanthia returns about an hour later with supplies balanced between five bags between both arms. She carefully sets the bags down beside the bed and leans over to check up on him...


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry everyone for the wait! Well, the dozen people who have been following this work anyways. It would really help my numbers if everyone would favorite, follow, and review. That way I'll know that I'm doing a good job here!

* * *

Fionghall groans as he finishes packing his bags, arranging him the way that he will carry them to the horses they had bought earlier this morning. The caravan is set to leave in less than a few hours, and he and Lavanthia needed to pack up quickly. "I am feeling a bit better since yesterday, but these old bones are quite stiff this morning. How is your packing going, my dear?"

Lavanthia, meanwhile, has been packing up quite quickly with another pack of essentials they will need for the trip! Including spare clothing, first aid stuff, and a Manual of Spellcraft she intended to study on her way to Eastmarch! "Almost got everything! Just need to check if we left out anything!"

"Alright, alright. And make sure you have plenty of your... womanly things. Keep it separate from mine." Fionghall grumbles about the particulars. He is a kind, caring old man, though he is still an old man, with plenty of superstitious beliefs and prejudices in his head. Clothing must always be segregated by sex on a journey, and feminine supplies moreso should not be next to medicines and such. Those were just the facts.

"Done and done!" She reassures him with a big smile, "I even picked up a few scrolls so we can cast firebolts, if we needed to!" she pulls out one of the scrolls and offers it to him.

Fionghall grumbles again and takes the scroll reluctantly. He had woken up with the strangest headache this morning, but he chose bravely not to mention it to the young woman, nor his continued stomach pain symptoms. Once they got out on the road, he would have a smoke with some Nirnroot and perhaps a morning nap. He reads over the scroll, smiling softly for a moment beneath his beard. He had never learned Fire Magicka, preferring to specialize more in the Winter's Embrace school of Warden Magicka, though Fire could be as helpful as Frost sometimes. "Good. Here, take good care of it. Spell scrolls are expensive, after all."

"It's okie, I got a few more in my pack already. But I figured I should give you one too! For emergencies?" The Elf healer frowns, detecting something wrong with the older man she had come to grow fond of these past weeks. She pauses and tilts her head a bit, "...Why are you hiding your pain?"

"I'm not in pain. Not nearly as much as I was yesterday, at any rate." Fionghall grunts heavily as he gets to his feet, looking for his axe and his walking staff. They would have to leave in a minute, to catch up with the caravan and find their places before everything started moving. He waves his hand to dismiss the girl's concerns, blinking a few times as he adjusts his vision to sense the heat signatures around him. Lavanthia shines as a bright orange glow very close to him, and he could vaguely feel her hands on his body to steady him. "Grab our things. I'm glad we packed lightly, since we will mostly be on foot ourselves. Unless we find a nice person with a wagon or a cart... let's go."

Lavanthia gets up and picks up both of their bags, locking her jaw with how cumbersome this baggage is. Not that it's heavy or anything. It's just awkward with her being small, and the bags being made for horses. But she manages! Again, her aura pulsates, and he might be able to see the magickal markings now.

Fionghall is unable to see anything, but he does silently lifts his brows at the change in her heat signature and her magicka presence, and its intensity. As they go downstairs, they pass by the table that Reyne Taale always sat at. That handsome young Mer man, who would smile charmingly at the girl whenever he saw her come down the stairs, a glass of wine or a pencil always in his hands. The old Nord glances briefly at Lavanthia to see if there would be any other change in her or if she might say something, but he knew the heart ache she still must be struggling with.

Lavanthia stares at that very table, blinking her eyes and wondering if he would just appear with that very smile and wineglass and pretend everything was as it should be. With a sigh, she presses on after a moment, catching up to her companion and coming over to the old Nord's side with her gaze diverted from the table. Yep. It still hurts. Bad. Though the markings are still clear as day, almost shimmering with the change in her emotional state.

Letting her grab his arm, he allows himself to be led as she helps him step over and past several chairs and other things that litter the floor, and they exit the Inn together. Stepping out into the cool morning air, he breathes deeply, already feeling some pain in his stomach but dismissing it quickly for Lavanthia's well-being more than for his own. They would get to the caravan together and once they were on the road, they could leave this place behind them.

Fionghall smiles again and places his hand on the poor girl's soft, sad face, rubbing his thumb comfortingly against her cheek. The people around them start to mutter about this unusual sight, and the woman's magickal tattoos. Lavanthia leans into the hand, comforted by the soft, warm gesture, even though his fingertips are freezing. She guides him over the rocks and stones as well, so he didn't trip over them. Seems her occupying herself with his well-being is helping her mind be distracted from the heartache.

Temporarily distracted as she is, Fionghall attempts to analyze her Magicka a bit closer, but to no avail. In short order though, the old Nord can sense that they had finally come upon the caravan, a large, frighteningly energetic mass of energy in front of them, every single person down to the smallest child and the frailest elder working hard to get their own vehicles or bags ready to go soon.

Lavanthia squeaks softly in timid fright at the sight of such a crowd condensed in such a small area, but steeling her nerves for the old man's sake, she takes a deep breath and helps guide Fio through said crowd. At this point, he can feel her presence starting to wrap around them as if subconsciously trying to shield them from these strangers.

The old man pats Lavanthia on the head, comforting her again as they carefully walk forward and find their places, two horses tied up to a post with their literal names on it, a few empty saddle bags strapped to the rested steeds. They would be in for a long, difficult journey together, but they had packed and prepared everything that they could.

Lavanthia releases his arm the moment they make it to the horses. She practically skips over to the horses, her pointed Elf ears bouncing and turns on her heel to begin chattering excitedly with Fionghall about what their trip together would be like. Optimistic to a fault. Loading up the saddlebags onto their horses together, she pauses to consider something... then turns to Fio to watch a bit, see how well he is handling it all. This was going to be a long trip.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: As before, please read, favorite, and review! I've noticed that the Elder Scrolls fandom is not huge but for those of you who enjoy my rating, let me know. Update schedule right now is sporadic, but I'll try to add chapters twice per week at least!

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Fionghall lets out a soft grunt as his horse begins to move forward, an old mare fit to carry his weight but well-trained and experienced enough to easily obey his guiding reins. The caravan had just gotten started, the dust rolling up into the air along with the sounds of dozens of horses and other carts plodding along the well-worn path through Stonefalls, many in the train of vehicles eager to get far away from the ash-laden air that clings to skin and clothing alike.

Lavanthia easily guides her own horse, slightly nervous, but the horse she has is patient, and further calmed by her very aura that seems to affect animals as well as Men and Mer.

Fionghall harrumphs to himself discontentedly when he senses Lavanthia's heat signature slightly increase as she becomes more calm and less anxious. The girl was growing on him, but due to her strange circumstances, he could not forget that there was much to her that he still did not know. Perhaps though by putting some distance between herself and Davon's Watch physically, she might be able to cope with her recent heartbreak. Either she would have to never see that young Dunmer man again, or next time she sees him, Reyne had better stick around for a longer time. "First loves are often more difficult," he reminisces.

The slightest rumble of the volcano, and she has to clasp her hands over her ears. She can practically hear the invisible elemental voices around them fighting one another! The Brothers of Strife, as she was taught, was whom she's sensing. And it grates on her like no other. When covering her ears did nothing to dull it out, she gently hugs the horse for some semblance of comfort, trembling as the lands quake.

"Hey, we're halfway across Stonefalls, my dear. Soon enough we will be able to put this all behind us and move on to other adventures. Doesn't that sound nice?" Fionghall calls back to the young woman slightly behind him, distracting her from the intense Magicka trying to slam against her mind. She also had other things to worry about, and hopefully the whole caravan could stop at a watering station soon.

At this point her nails are digging into her scalp, fingers pulling and tugging at her thick locks of flaming red hair in frustration. The softest sound like the coo of a dove is her reply, along with a nod. His voice is a very welcoming distraction, though the middle of Stonefalls is the loudest that the voices have gotten thus far.

Thankfully, her wish soon came true: a few hours into their day's trip, the caravan leader, a middle-aged Dunmer woman named Maryssa, sent her two young sons up and down the line to spread the welcome news that they would be stopping to refill water canisters and wash their mounts briefly at a well nearby. Fionghall smiles at the young man before he goes off to tell the next group of travellers, and the old Nord waves at his charge to follow him more closely. Soon enough, they come upon the folks up ahead who had already found their way to the virtual oasis here in the middle of the Ashlands, the harsh dust-filled wind miraculously dying down enough to give everyone a brief reprieve.

As the caravan itself pulled up to the area, encircling the well and forming a line of people with their own buckets, waterskins, and bottles, a portly-but-strong 40-something Orc man who had been with the caravan from the beginning sets his large rickshaw down in the dust, going around the self-drawn cart to check on a little 1-year-old baby in the back of it. Amara gra-Lorish slept soundly in her small cradle but when her father comes near, she immediately opens her eyes, her gaze as aware of her surroundings as if she hadn't been napping at all.

Lavanthia spots the baby as she and her older companion approach, and her attention is immediately drawn to the infant. She smiles to herself faintly, an odd feeling of protectiveness and genuine affection coming over her, like the "love-at-first-sight" in all those romance novels she had read to Fionghall back in Davon's Watch.

Not noticing the young Mer woman behind them initially, Lorish goes to pick up his daughter, keeping her wrapped in her swaddling clothes as he grabs a few buckets with well-fitted lids on them to get in line for the well nearby. He smiles down at the little girl in his arms, kissing her on the cheek. Even from far away, the Bosmer and the old Nord behind him might be able to tell that the large Orc's baby was a rare half-breed, with the eyes and ears of a Wood Elf but the facial features and green skin tone of an Orc. "Oh, there we go, Amara. You are the sweetest thing, aren't you..."

Lavanthia smiles at such a sweet sight, her heart going out to the strikingly handsome father as well, not anything like Orc men had been described to her before. After a moment of silent appreciation for the endearing pair of green-skins, a thought occurs to the young woman: "Where was the mother?" She looks around the caravan, then the rest of the crowd. Curious... Momma should be nearby, right?

After waiting for a while, Lorish fills up the two large buckets in his hands, carrying them back to his rickshaw. Fionghall notices the way his younger friend is staring at the Orcs, and pushes the girl in the center of her back gently, causing her to stumble forward a bit. She finds her balance easily and looks back at the Nord, urging her with a smile to approach the slightly older but obviously kind-hearted Orsimer, and perhaps strike up a conversation.

Lavanthia squeaks softly when she's nudged forward. After giving Fio a smile and a nod, she walks over to the Orsimer. Though the closer she is to the Orc, and the farther from Fio, the more timid she becomes. And the baby, how would she react to strangers? "Only one way to find out," she thinks to herself as she puts one foot in front of the other.

The man sets his baby back in her cradle, turning around to greet the much smaller woman who had bravely walked up to him. His voice is deep, much like Fionghall's, and up close she could see that he had the same soft, compassionate amber eyes as Reyne Taale. But his demeanor was much different, and there was a kinder warmth to his presence that contrasted with Reyne's aloofness when she had first met the man who had stolen her heart.

It is this demeanor that seems to calm her into a far more relaxed state of being, though still trembled slightly due to the volatile environment Stonefalls has. "H-Hello, mister. Are you traveling to Skyrim too?"

Lorith raises his eyebrows at the small girl, before bursting out in a hearty chuckle, clearly at her expense. He holds out his very large hand for her to grasp it in greeting, introducing himself as well as kindly explaining why he had laughed at her. "Oh, you've got it wrong, stranger. This caravan is going Bangkorai, and most of the folks here are refugees looking to find a safe haven in Orsinium and maybe work with the Covenant. Mostly former slaves, though Amara and I are headed to Bangkorai to go home."

Lavanthia blushes softly as she realizes: Duh, of course he's not going to Skyrim. Not with a baby, anyways. But she takes his hand, shaking it. "Ooooh..." Though the mention of the Covenant had her limbs stiffen with anxiety briefly before straightening up, "Ah. That's really far... What brought you so far out to Stonefalls?"

"I uh… ahem, perhaps that's a story best told when we all have time to stop for the night." The Orc looks up from her innocent, shimmering eyes to see almost everyone else around them either setting up or getting their train moving. "Looks like we'll need to pack up and get going pretty soon. What was your name, miss?" Lorish shakes the small woman's hand firmly, his large hand completely engulfing hers for a moment before he drops the contact. He goes around the cart to check on his baby, before putting on some travelling gloves and stepping between the hand-beams of the rickshaw, placing his fingers firmly around the handles as he prepares to head out at the moment that everyone else starts moving. He throws that last question to the Bosmer girl from over his shoulder.

"I'm Lavanthia! Yours?" She asks, turning her body in preparation to head for her companion and horse, though not before her question is answered. Her hands are held tightly in front of her and she wrings her fingers nervously, a blush creeping up her neck as she tries to tear her eyes away from the heartwarming smile the Orc gives her.

"Lorish gro-Torug, and that bundle of joy in the back is my daughter, Amara gra-Lorish. Maybe next time we all stop for the night, you can meet her properly!" Quickly, the caravan starts moving again, and with a heavy sigh and a grunt, Lorish lifts the wooden cart and begins plodding along the well-worn road once more, taking up his place in the long line of vehicles once more, rapidly leaving the view of the two other travelers he had briefly met, especially the small Elf woman.

Fionghall waves at Lavanthia for her to come back to her horse and hop on so they could take their places as well, before they are both left behind. "Come on, my dear. Time is of the essence!" Lavanthia gives Lorish a brief wave before rushing back over to Fio's side to hop on her steed, looking toward Fio to make sure he gets up on his alright. The old man had taken a dose of his Nirnroot this morning and then a couple hours ago, so he should be fine until the evening.

This afternoon was a strange but welcome turn of events, and perhaps Lavanthia had found two new friends for her to get to know before this long journey is done. Her heart flutters at the thought of meeting Lorish again, the image of his comforting smile and those enthralling eyes difficult to dispel from her mind. "Soon," she tells herself, as she climbs her own mount and stays close behind Fionghall to monitor his travelling pace.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, but I hope you all enjoy some of the fluff and exposition I've added. As always, read and review!

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Fionghall looks up as the two companions finally arrive at the caravan's stopping point for the evening, the long trail of beasts and vehicles slowly coming to a stop and forming a loosely-woven array of campsites as various people and families unload some of their belongings for the night. The middle-aged caravan leader and her two sons go up and down the rows again as they usually do, ensuring the security and safety of all the caravan members, old Maryssa's mouth set into a disapproving frown as usual.

Lavanthia hops down from her own horse, stopping briefly to gently pet the beast while feeding it some oats. She smiles brightly as the mare licks her on the face in affection and appreciation for the Mer's attentive hands. A soft giggle when said horsey gives her horsey kisses on the cheek!

Fionghall hobbles over to a nice spot in the grass, while the young woman unloads their packs. He stoops to set up a small campfire, grabbing his Destruction Staff to cast a small spell and ignite the firewood. "Lavanthia, why don't you go find that nice Orc man we met the other day, make sure his camp is set up for the night." The older Nord knew that the girl had been itching to meet with Lorish gro-Torug again, ever since the two had met yesterday. Now that the caravan finally stopped this would be her only chance for a few more days to speak with the man. Fionghall valiantly ignores the pain in his stomach, already taking out his pipe and finding some Nirnroot in his satchel, waving the girl away. "He should be nearby, I'll take care of things here."

Lavanthia nods and pets the horses, "Okie, Fio!" Then skips on over to look through the camp, looking for her new orc friend.

Fionghall finally lets out a soft groan once she skips out of ear shot, lighting up his pipe to smoke some of his favorite pain killer of late. Not that the girl knew or that he let her know, but he had recently also been vomiting, barely able to hold down some of the food stuffs they had packed with them. Most of his food he gave to Lavanthia, anyways. Fionghall would be glad to be in Bangkorai as that Orsimer had told them yesterday, where the air was clear and crisp, without dust or ash on the wind.

* * *

Lorish would be found nearby, a few campsites away, settling Amara gra-Sylvia into her cradle as she drifts quickly off to sleep. The last 2 hours of the trip before the caravan had stopped were full of curious babbling from the ten-month-old baby, wondering about the interesting sights and sounds all around her. "Shhh you've had a fun day today. Time for sleep, my princess."

Lavanthia comes over to Lorish, but stops herself short to watch him place the baby in her cradle. She tilts her head and gazes silently at the pure, innocent sight of the loving father with his daughter, a soft smile beginning to play across her lips. With a gentle sigh to clear her head, she quietly approaches the Orc and waves to him in greeting.

Lorish seems surprised but quickly smiles at the younger girl, putting a finger to his lips to silently tell her to be quiet around the baby, before motioning for her to take a seat at one of the small wooden stools that he has around his humble campfire. "Shush, friend. But it is good to see you again, Lavanthia."

Lavanthia smiles and nods quickly before tip toeing over to the stool to sit down, whispering to Lorish, "You too. How was the journey for you? Did you need any further help with your camp?"

Lorish hands the woman a small wooden mug, taking the kettle of coffee off the fire to pour her a glass. Very different from the medicinal teas that the girl's older companion has been in the habit of drinking, which he was eager to share with Lavanthia. This coffee was both rich and thick, tasting of wood and earth, the brew made from crushed beans that hailed from a high, mountainous region of Skyrim or Bangkorai. Certainly the soil they were grown in was rich, and the air much cleaner than this dark, stuffy place beneath the watchful gaze of several active volcanoes. The Orc briefly ponders how the Dunmer could ever live here in the first place, before returning his attention to the small woman next to him, wondering her thoughts on the coffee in her hands. Nearby, Amara sleeps soundly, having instantly fallen asleep when her Papa had instructed her to do so in his gentle, kind voice. A Princess knows how to listen as well as command, after all.

Lavanthia blows gently at the hot coffee in her hands, curious about the strange brown liquid. One sip, and her face grimaces slightly. Coffee is quite the bitter drink, it seems. "Packs a punch. What is it?"

Lorish smiles at the young woman after looking over at his little Princess. He also grabs a small container of sugar cubes, taking off the lid and handing it to her. "It's called coffee. Like tea, but you pour the boiling water over these crushed beans. They grow plentifully where the soil is good in the North, and in Auridon as well. I like the bitter taste, reminds me of home..."

Lavanthia carefully takes a couple of sugar cubs and whirls her hand over the cup, stirring the liquid with her magic, which feels oddly like the aura of an enchanted forest. The relaxed expression on the Orc's face is surprisingly handsome, the rugged masculinity of his strong jaw and fierce eyes causing something to twist up inside her, and he pulse quickens. The small Elf coughs nonchalantly and tries to hide her blush. "Oh, I see. Why does my chest feel strange? If I didn't know, I'd think you were trying to poison me." Lavanthia chuckles at her macabre joke, hoping that the man did not see the embarrassment on her face. She takes another sip from the wooden mug in her hand to conceal her burning, pale cheeks, smiling to herself now that the bitterness has faded away, replaced with the sweetness of the sugar.

"That's probably the caffeine in it. Coffee contains a special chemical once brewed, that increases your heart rate and warms you up inside. My people use it often to deal with the harsher winters of Bangkorai and Orsinium." Lorish stares into the fire for a brief moment, lost in his thoughts of his homeland, eager to take Amara there safely and raise her where she belongs, on the rolling plains of her motherland.

Lavanthia gives the man a small nod of understanding, wiggling her toes and tapping her feet anxiously in front of her to try and relieve some of that energy. "What can you tell me about Orsinium? I don't think I've been there before, but I have the name sounds familiar."

"It's a wondrous city, a testament to the hardiness and the strength of my people. We joined the Men in the Daggerfall Covenant because we were not made to feel welcome with our fellow Mer. There, we are treated as equals with Bretons and Redguards, and so they often walk the streets of Orsinium as well." The older man talks with knowledge and insight, the conviction in his voice inspiring as he continues to look into the small campfire before them. The fingers of his big, strong hands intertwine and are clasped together in thought, twiddling his thumbs idly as he speaks to the small woman beside him. She did remind him so much of his past lover, it was uncanny, and perhaps that was why he said hello to her the other day.

Lavanthia's cheerful disposition seems to drop a bit at the mention of the Covenant. Her expression troubled. But she manages a soft smile, "Well, I'm sure they are a rather nice people. They can't all be bad, considering you are one of them." then she looks down, "But, what is it with all these group names? Covenant? Ebonheart?"

The Orsimer nods at the petite Wood Elf, tilting his head back to also look at the stars that are beginning to come out tonight, the galaxies overhead painted across the canvas of the night sky beautifully in a naturally captivating way. In the North, with even less pollution in the atmosphere there, it was easier to see the celestial bodies out there, just beyond reach. "Well, the Three Factions war right now in Cyrodiil, though for the most part life goes on for the rest of us common-folk, unless we are soldiers too. I gave that up myself when Amara was born, though."

"I see." Lavanthia frowns deeply, almost pouting, then the frown turns into an uncertain gaze upon him, "I know this is probably a touchy question, but where is Amara's mother? I haven't seen her with you at all."

"She died in childbirth a year ago. Since then, I had been searching for a good place to settle down with Amara. But I think it's time for me to take her to our homeland. Actually, you looked so much like Sylvia the other day that I... well, I had to say hello."

"Sylvia...? So she was a wood elf, like me?" She gapes slightly, smiling a little, "What was she like?"

"She was an absolutely stunning woman. More beautiful than the setting sun or the evening sky, her voice was always so soft but self-assured, like the cool summer breeze that blows in Bangkorai. I would like to someday take Amara to Grahtwood, when she's older, so she can see the land in which her mother grew up." Lorish looks over at the sleeping form of the little baby, those adorable tusks poking out of her bottom lip, the first two teeth that she had grown when she had started teething. She still had a few more missing, actually, but she would get there in time.

Lavanthia also turns her head to the adorable sleeping baby. Smiling when she remembers the coos of such an innocent bundle of life. Something that really touches her heart, urging her to protect the life with every fiber of her being. "She must have been such a wonderful person..."

"Sylvia was perfect, nothing like the rest of the Wood Elves or the Altmer who criticize and ostracize the Orsimer. She recognized that we all have the same origins. I could not bring myself to fight her when we met on the battlefield of Cyrodiil. Almost instantly there was a connection, and we knew that our place was not warring against each other. So, we fled the fight together and never looked back."

On the subject of her own kind, and these 'Altmer', Lavanthia's smile completely falls, and she seems even more concerned. Then she rubs the back of her neck, "I dunno why... Your people seem so nice! And so do the Nords back in the village. Why all this fighting, then?"

"Everyone wants to re-establish the Empire in the center of the continent, to rule Tamriel themselves as the Reman Dynasty did for so many centuries in the last Era."

"Oh." Lavathia sighs heavily, shaking her head, "I don't understand why they'd want that. Especially with all this senseless war and violence, it doesn't feel right to me."

Lorish places his hands on his knees, sighing as he looks away from the sky and at the small woman finally, smiling at her. "Spoken like a true Wood Elf, certainly." She was innocent clearly, unknown to the world, young and perhaps hopeful. Well, he would not ruin it, so he decides to change the subject of conversation. "I see that you and your companion are always at the back of the caravan, lagging behind." He stares deeply into the fire, pensive about what he was about to say, but sealing his fate with hers in his next breath. "If you would like, I do have a proposition for you and your elderly friend: we can put your horses with my cart and the four of us might move a bit quicker." Lorish does not look away from the campfire, but he can hear the elation in the young woman's voice.

"R-Really?" She looks up to him, hopeful and hands clenching with restrained excitement, the smile back on her face. It was like a metamorphosis, her clear joy brightening up the dark night around them and causing a little smile on the Orc's face as well. The sickness that had been with the old man would be nearly impossible to fully dispel, though under the young woman's tender healing touch, Fionghall seems to drift into an easier sleep these days, less pain showing on his face when he is asleep. Perhaps a chance to sit in Lorish's cart for the rest of this long, long journey might help him to rest and recover, in a way that is not possible on the back of a horse.

The Orc nods at the enthusiastic young woman. She was clearly in enamored with Amara, and eager to make friends on this long journey towards the North. "Well, talk to him about it in the morning, and come back to me before the caravan gets started again."

"Okie!" She giggles, standing to her feet and bouncing up and down as she thinks of all the fun things they could do along the way! So much to talk about, so much to see! With a soft sigh she glances back in the direction of her camp, before looking at Lorish again. After leaning down to give the man a grateful hug for everything he had said to her that night, she turns to go back to her elderly companion.

* * *

When Lavanthia finally came back to the camp, Fionghall is asleep on his side, a pained expression on his face and groaning softly in his sleep, but sleeping deeply nonetheless. His tense facial features and the still-smoking pipe in his hand is evidence that while she was gone, he had taken to self-medicating again. In the past couple weeks since the caravan had gotten started on its way, the old Nord had made that more and more of a habit.

Lavanthia comes over to his side, worried about his worsening condition. Settling on her knees, she places her hands on his still sleeping form. Eyes close as she focuses on him, narrowing her concentration into a single point in his midsection - starting with his stomach. Hands give off a golden glow with Magicka as she practices some of the healing techniques that Fionghall himself had taught her back in Davon's Watch. Her raw power had amazed him, an impressive sight even for a Warden.

She begins to slowly work her way throughout his body, taking the time to heal and mend some of the damage the mysterious illness had done to his stomach. Fionghall remains asleep, knocked out by both his physical tiredness and the strain of his sickness, and the medicine he had taken for the symptoms thereof. It seems like whatever he had eaten back in Davon's Watch had really made him sick, and the older man had truly begun to feel his age these past few days especially. Constantly tired, not as aware of his surroundings, and practically falling off his horse in exhaustion at the end of the day.

Lavanthia smiles down at her companion. Yeah, being out of the Ashlands may do him some good. And banding together with the Orc family would make the trip for the old man a lot easier. Then, with a soft yawn, the young Elf finishes doing what she can, and lays beside her companion. She snuggles up into Fio's chest, laying her head right underneath his chin, curling into a ball like a child.

Fionghall lets out a murmur in his sleep and mumbles something incoherently in Nordic as Levanthia curls up close to him protectively, practically the only family she has been able to find out here in the wilderness. Who knows what the next day would bring, but for now they have each other.

As Lavanthia drifts off to sleep, smiling happily and contentedly beside him, she whispers quietly into the night, the conviction in her voice filled with content and hope. "Goodnight, Papa..."


End file.
